“Folkvarus,” Gilda said in a warning tone, clicking her tongue. “Don’t let the queen see that you’ve taken a special interest in this girl. You know what will happen.”
“Just get her some food and then I’ll take her into the dungeon.”
“Dungeon?” Gilda gasped. “That’s no place for a young girl.”
“Don’t worry, I’m good with animals,” Mae said.
Cook Barley dropped a bowl in front of her. Maewyn poked at the sticky oatmeal, suddenly feeling guilty for eating.
“Don’t feel bad, dear. Poppy ate this morning when she brought the queen’s breakfast dishes back. Huldfrejya has had her hopping all morning. You’d think that girl was a brownie, the way she’s been working around here.”
Mae shoveled in the oatmeal. It was cold, and there was only one slice of apple in there, which she gave to Trina. The mush reminded her of home and the apple orchard and Leif’s pumpkin patch. Her ears drooped as she thought of Leif. She hoped the owl had found him.
Chapter 12
Something woke Leif. He lay still in his bed as the rosy sunrise filtered through his windows. The window muntins cast crisscrossed shadows on the wall. He blinked and strained his ears. Reed was softly snoring in the bed across the room.
Tap, tap, tap.
Leif turned his head. A huge owl was tapping its beak on the window above his bed.
Tap, tap, tap.
The tapping was more insistent this time. The owl reached up one claw and scratched at the glass pane, her talons leaving marks in the frost.
Leif scrambled up on his knees and unlatched the window. He didn’t really know why he was opening it for an owl, but his gut told him it was the right thing to do. He backed away as the bird hopped over the sill and soared into the room, landing on the top of his dresser. A small portrait of Mae leaned against his toolbox. The owl scooted the portrait with her beak, pinching it in her mouth. She screeched.
Slowly approaching, Leif’s mind spun. The carving he’d given Mae before she left. The owl before him had the same curve to her beak. She was bigger, of course, but this was his owl. Except there was something around her neck. He reached out, touching the braided strands of red hair. Gently he pulled it off the owl and turned it in his hand.
“This is from Mae, isn’t it?” he asked the owl. He held up the braided loop of hair. “And this is Poppy’s hair.” His stomach fell as the owl’s gaze deepened. Deep in his heart, he knew the girls were in trouble. Tossing open his dresser drawers, Leif drew on a pair of trousers, thick wool socks, and a cabled sweater. He threw the door of his room open, startling Reed awake as the doorknob banged against the wall.
“Wh—what’s happening?” Reed said sleepily.
The owl glided into the hallway and toward the front door.
Leif yelled over his shoulder as he ran after her. “Mae’s in trouble. Have to go see Aletta.”
He shoved his boots on, crammed his hat on his head, grabbed his jacket, and was out the door before Reed could shuffle out of bed and ask any more questions. Leif shoved his arms into his jacket and buttoned it up as he hurried down the road. He could just make out the shadow of the owl as she soared over the pumpkin field.
The trees had shed with the previous night’s wind. Bright red and yellow leaves littered the roads and huddled against the fence posts. Leif was out of breath when he arrived at the Bridgepost farm. The owl was already pecking at the kitchen window of Maewyn’s house. He saw Aletta look up, and watched as surprise crossed her face, and then alarm as she saw him approaching.
The door was yanked open as Leif arrived.
“Something’s wrong!” they both said at the same time.
“You’ve got the Bricklebear Fever!” Leif said. Aletta’s cheeks flamed with fever, and hairy little spots had sprouted on her chin.
“Are Mae and Callum in trouble?”
“Mae sent this.” Leif held out the braid. It shook in his hand while he tried to catch his breath. Aletta scooped it out of his palm. He panted. “It was around the owl’s neck.”
“It’s hair,” Aletta said.
“Poppy’s hair, to be exact,” Leif answered. He straightened up, his heart still beating hard.
Aletta shooed him and the owl into the house. “Come in out of the cold.”
The owl swooped in, perched on the overstuffed chair where Callum would normally sit, and began to preen her feathers.
Leif hesitated, shuffling his feet. He couldn’t get the fever or he would be useless to help Maewyn and the others.
“Don’t worry, I took the last of the medicine and shouldn’t be contagious anymore.”
Leif stepped into the house. “You took the last of the medicine?”
“I figured if I was sick, I couldn’t help anyone else.” Aletta bit her lip as a worried expression clouded her face. “It was wrong of me, wasn’t it?”
“No! No, Aletta.” Leif shook his head emphatically. “You were right. We need our only resident wizard, for the moment anyway, healthy.”
“I still feel a bit ill, but I should be right in no time.” Aletta strode across the room to the large dining table. “Come, I’ll get us some tea and the map Callum left me.” The wizard snapped her fingers and mumbled something. The kettle floated from the hearth to the dining table and poured water into a teacup, where a small strainer held leaves of loose tea. Leif was just wondering if he should go get a second cup when one glided into the room. He switched the strainer to the second cup as it alighted on the table.
Leif sipped from his cup, trying to calm his nerves as the kettle poured water for Aletta as she hurried back into the room carrying a large map. Unrolling the parchment, Aletta pointed to the Wedge, and then the red dotted line that led to Larissa, and then farther on to Watcher’s Hill. “By my calculations, they should have made it to Larissa two days ago. This morning they were scheduled to start traveling to Watcher’s Hill.”
“But that’s if they made it to Larissa in the first place!” Leif interrupted.
Aletta blinked at him. It was as if she hadn’t even considered that.
Leif ran his hands through his curly mop. “I know Callum and Mae are good wizards, but something might have happened to them. The wagon could’ve broken down, the party might have come down with the Bricklebear Fever, or the horses went lame…”
“No, Callum took some of the remedy for the fever with him, just in case.” The wizard grabbed her cup from the table and sipped her tea, pacing. “The only thing to do is follow their trail and find them.”
“There is an easier way to find them,” Leif said. As if the owl knew what Leif was suggesting, she glided to the dining table and pecked at the map. Then she straightened and gave a soft hoot.
Aletta peered at the point where the owl had poked. “There’s nothing there but the ruins of a castle destroyed in the Trillium War. I didn’t tell you, but the hapennies fought in that war too, beside the humans.”
Leif laughed. “I doubt it. I’ve never heard of any war where hapennies fought alongside humans. That’s ridiculous.”
“Remember how I said the elders didn’t want the younger generation to get any grand ideas? Well, the generation of happennies who fought in the war burned all the writings about it and forbade anyone to talk about the war in the presence of the young.”
“And that must be part of the reason that humans don’t visit the Wedge,” Leif said. A hotness burned in the pit of his stomach. He felt betrayed and ignorant. How could a part of their long history just be erased like that?
Aletta bent and pulled his chin toward her, staring him in the face. “I know what you’re thinking, but the elders thought they were protecting you. They thought they were doing what was best for the future of the hapenny race.”
Leif pulled away. “By keeping us ignorant of our past? By letting us fear humans and wizards…and our own magick?”
Aletta rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say it was a good idea! I’m just telling you what happened. Mis
takes can be corrected. But first we need to find Callum, Mae, and the others.”
Leif straightened. “I’m ready to go.”
“Oh no you’re not,” Aletta said as she bustled around the room collecting things. “Your mother would kill me if I agreed to that.”
“I don’t care what my mother thinks,” Leif yelled. He puffed out his chest and pointed his thumb at it. “I’m sixteen. I’m old enough to make decisions for myself. And I say I’m going!”
“No.” Aletta shook her head.
“Yes!”
“No!”
“Yes!” Leif stamped his foot. “Leave the Wedge without me and I’ll follow you on my own.”
Aletta rolled the map up and stuck it on the pile of things she’d gathered. “I can’t let you go without talking to your parents first.”
Leif growled deep in his throat and let out a frustrating scream. “Fine!” He stormed out the door and stalked down the path. The owl followed him. He could hear the flap of her wings, the swoosh sound echoing the pounding of his angry heart. His parents weren’t going to stop him from finding Mae.
Chapter 13
Leif stared at the afternoon sun leaking through the colored windows and into the cozy room at the Twisted Bridge Tavern, the Wedge’s unofficial town hall. His mind was reeling with worry and his shoulder ached from the weight of the owl perched there, but he wouldn’t ask her to leave—she was his only link to Mae.
“Callum, Maewyn, and the other travelers left knowing the dangers they might face,” Widow Bridgepath said. Her glasses had slipped down her nose so that she was looking at Leif and Aletta over the copper-colored rims. Her wrinkled hands were folded together on the tabletop, her shoulders hunched forward.
“We thought it was safe,” Aletta said. “We thought the trolls had gotten the message and moved on.”
“Yes. We all thought so, but it turns out we may have been wrong.” Old Mr. Hollowbeam’s voice creaked as he spoke. He shifted in his chair before continuing. “You, Aletta, are free to leave and search for them—”
“But under no circumstances is my son to go with you!” Faria Burrbridge shrieked.
Leif’s dad patted her hand to calm her down. “Yes, dear. We all know how you feel about it. Let Elder Hollowbeam finish.” Leif’s dad nodded and smiled at the other villagers in the tavern. They were watching the proceedings with great interest over tankards of pumpkin-pie ale. Leif was sure the outcome of the meeting would be all over town in a matter of moments.
His mother fanned herself and adjusted her winter bonnet.
“As I was saying, Aletta, please find Mae and the others. We must trust in the magickal protections on the bridge that Mae provided. Any hapenny over the age of seventeen is welcome to go with you,” Elder Hollowbeam croaked. “Leif, however, being only sixteen summers, must stay in the Wedge.”
Widow Bridgepath slammed the gavel on the table. “Our word is final.”
Mr. Hollowbeam raised his hand to get the server’s attention. “A pint of wedgeberry rum, if you please.”
“But it’s not fair!” Leif stomped his foot. “In six months, I’m old enough to make my own decisions—what’s going to happen to me in six months that’s going to change me so significantly from who I am now? Am I going to magickally become a grownup? One day too young, the next old enough to decide for myself?”
“Those six months will give you more time to mature,” his dad said. “To grow into your britches.”
Leif turned to the wizard and raised his eyebrows, silently pleading with her to intervene. “Aletta?”
Aletta looked at her feet. “I live in the Wedge by the permission of the Elders, and I must follow their word, especially when it comes to an underage hapenny. I’m sorry, Leif.”
“Goose pie and malarkey!” Leif shouted. He turned on his heel and stormed from the tavern. The owl hopped off his shoulder and screeched after him. As he pulled open the door, he glared at the gathering of hapennies. “Just so you know, my mother’s house has been invaded by piskies. You might want to do something about it before the little blighters start robbing your houses too.”
Faria gasped as Leif strode out into the quickly darkening night. The leafless trees clacked together, looking like giant fingers reaching into the sky. He wished those giant fingers would pluck him out of the Wedge… Giant fingers! River Weed Starr! That’s it! He would find River Weed Starr. Surely the giant would help rescue Mae.
His owl—he’d taken to calling her Peck—preened herself in a nearby tree, keeping an eye on him as he paced in the village square. He bit the skin on his thumb, trying to quickly think of what he would need to pack, and how he was going to get the map from Aletta. Several of the villagers passed him with sidelong looks and whispers. Mr. Birchbeam tipped his hat before covering his face with a scarf and pushing into the wind. Leif waved and then tried to act casual, stuffing his hands in his pockets and whistling a snappy tune as he ambled out of town. He knew Aletta wouldn’t give him the map; he’d have to make a copy. He was just hoping she’d left it out on the table.
When he was out of sight of the village center, he broke into a run. Getting to Mae’s house as fast as he could, before Aletta, was the only chance he had to put his plan into action. Peck flew next to him as he careened around the bend. Curls of smoke rose from the chimneys in the distance. The dead heads of sunflowers dipped as he raced past, and the pigs squealed as he came into view of Maewyn’s house. Glancing furtively around, Leif slunk in the front door and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the map curled on the table on top of the other supplies Aletta had gathered. Peck flew to the chair and landed with a hoot, and Leif shut the door before searching for parchment, ink, and a quill. He could find nothing in the common room to write with, though. Map in hand, he jogged down the hallway to what used to be Gelbane’s workroom and shivered as he pushed the door open. Two years ago he’d been caged in that room, waiting to become a troll’s dinner, until Maewyn rescued him. Now the room was clear of Gelbane’s contraptions but cluttered with books about beasts and history and magick. Potions and salves lined the bookshelves, as well as jars of what Leif hoped were ingredients. The fire in the hearth had burned down to coals, and the room had an unused feeling about it.
A soft scuffle in the corner made Leif’s heart jump into his throat. He turned, holding the map up like a sword. Two black eyes peered up at him from under the table. Leif relaxed and crouched down to scratch the little red squirrel’s head. “Beau! How are you, buddy?”
Beau’s nose twitched. His bottom lip began to quiver, and then he burst into tears.
“Hey, hey now, what’s the matter?” Leif asked. Then he looked around the room. Usually wherever Beau was, Trina wasn’t too far off, but Leif didn’t see any trace of her. “Trina stowed away in Mae’s bag, didn’t she?”
Beau nodded and mopped his tears with his tail.
“I’m sorry. I know you miss her, just as much as I miss Mae. I’m going to find them, don’t you worry.”
The little squirrel nodded and brightened. He pointed to himself, and then to Leif, nodding enthusiastically.
“You…you want to come with me?” Leif asked, trying to decipher the squirrel’s squeaks and expressions. He figured he was right when Beau nodded his head so hard, Leif thought it might go rolling off. Leif chuckled a little. “Okay. Help me find parchment and ink so I can make a copy of this map.”
Beau bounded off and came back with a blank roll of parchment. He gestured for Leif to follow him to the desk under the window. The little squirrel disappeared through the small crack between the roll top and the desk surface. Pushing the roll top back, Leif found Beau holding the quill triumphantly and grabbed the ink jar. He unrolled the map and secured the corners so it would lie flat. Then he proceeded to make a copy. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t notice Aletta when she appeared in the doorway.
“I thought you might try something like this,” Aletta said.
Leif tried to hide
what he was doing. His heart pounded in his throat as he turned toward the wizard. “It’s not what you think… Okay, it is what you think. But what I am supposed to do? I cannot leave Mae in whatever situation she’s in, no matter what my parents and the Elders say. She asked for help. The owl I carved for her… She came to me.”
“Have you thought that the owl only came to you because it was made by your hands?” Aletta asked.
Leif shook his head. “No. Mae sent her to me. Who else would have understood the braid of hair around the owl’s neck as a message of distress?”
“What am I going to do with you, Leif?” Aletta said as she entered the room and gazed at the perfect copy of the map Leif had drawn. “You are too stubborn for your own good.”
“You can’t stop me from leaving,” Leif said.
Aletta poured a twinkling black powder on the wet ink and then blew it off. She rolled the parchment up into a tight cylinder and handed it to Leif. “I know. I’m not going to.”
Leif’s mouth dropped open. “But…but you said—”
“I know what I said.” Aletta waved a dismissive hand. “I had to say those things so it didn’t look like I was your accomplice. Now, let’s gather the other things you’ll need. What’s your plan?”
“I’m going to try and find River Weed Starr. He can travel much faster than I can, and he might have seen something that will help me.”
Aletta tapped her chin with a finger thoughtfully. “I’m going to give you a two-day head start while I gather a group and supplies. I can drag my feet no longer. You take the marked road to Larissa. If you do not find the giant between here and there, then you will meet me at the Seven Hills four days from today. It is an inn in the town.”
“What if I do find him?” Leif asked.
“I’ll know if you do not show up that you have found River Weed Starr. Do not deviate from the plan, no matter what.”
Leif nodded. His breath was coming fast with the excitement of leaving the Wedge, of seeing the world beyond the bridge, of saving Mae. Aletta shuffled through the desk drawers and pulled out a silver badge. She pressed it into Leif’s palm. “Take this. If you find any of King Huldhill’s men, show this to him.”
Tangled Magick Page 9
